Distorted Mind by Athena13 & Pugmom
by Athena13
Summary: Sequel to Distorted Fear. Robin and Patrick are back in Port Charles, but the effects of Robin's kidnapping are just beginning. Scrubs. Annoah. Others.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Distorted Mind by Athena13 & Pugmom**  
Category: TV Shows » General Hospital  
Author: Athena13  
Language: English, Rating: Fiction Rated: M  
Genre: Drama/Romance  
Published: 02-27-07, Updated: 07-01-07  
Chapters: 6, Words: 15,074

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

**Distorted Mind**

By Athena13 & Pugmom  
Genre: Drama/Romance/AU

Rating: Adult

Author's Note: This is the long-long-awaited sequel to our previous story a href="/purple_ "Distorted Fear/a. We've been working on this (slowly) for months now, but life has been getting in the way. We just got our act together and were planning to post next month when we had more written, but then we got some GH spoilers that make it appear that GH writers have been spying on us so we thought we'd best get this posted before it seemed like we copied them. I swear, we've been planning one of these bombshells since last fall! We'll probably be posting updates to this story about once per week. We hope that you enjoy. This continues where the last story left off, about October 2006.

**Chapter One**

_Moral relativism is a pseudo philosophy that recognizes no absolute truth other than the subjective interpretation of what is right by individuals to suit their selfish purposes. By this definition, it removes the stigma associated with lying, cheating, and stealing. Or with kidnapping, graft and corruption, and accepting…payoffs. All that matters to those who deny moral excellence is the happiness of evildoers, and they couldn't care less what great harm their self-centeredness has inflicted on others./i_  
** From Gloria's Not-so Secret Weapon by Alan C. Robles**

The first few flakes floated from the sky timidly. Quickly though, the snow seemed to pour from above, sure in its purpose. It was the earliest snowfall Port Charles had seen in 25 years and most of the citizens had been caught unaware. Jason looked over at Robin, tears silently rolling down her cheeks as she looked out the window at the quiet winter scene.

"Stone loved the snow. If he could have just held on a few more days-," her voice cracked and she couldn't finish the thought. She shook her head slightly and looked at her friend. "So, what did you bring?"

Stone had only been gone for a week – 9 days actually, and worried about his friend, Jason Quartermaine had headed over to the Scorpio house with storm supplies.

"Well," Jason smiled. "Dad sent me over with some firewood and I packed up some leftover turkey sandwiches Cook made." Jason rooted around in the bag and pulled out a box with a flourish. "And you can't get snowed in without hot chocolate and marshmallows."

Robin laughed. "No, of course not."

Jason continued to unpack the bag and snuck a quick glance at her. "So. How are you? Really?"

"Really?" Robin let out a long held breath. "Really, I'm a mess. I don't know what to do now. Without Stone, I feel lost." Jason held out his hand for her and she took it. "Jase, I'm finding it hard to know what to do next. Is there anything next for me?"

He pulled his friend close and hugged her. "There's a lot of "next" for you, Robin."

"Time went so fast for Stone. One day he was fine, the next he was dying." Robin swiped at her tears angrily. "Now he's gone. And he's left me all alone."

"Hey! You're not alone. You'll never be alone."

Robin looked up at him with a wry smile. "I'm always alone, Jason. I always end up alone." She pulled away from him and walked over to the sandwiches on the counter, unwrapping them. "I'm sorry. Ignore me." She pulled out plates and mugs, keeping her hands busy. "Isn't it funny how we spend our childhood trying to be grown-up? I would give anything to be a kid again. To feel that carefree and innocent. Not that being a Scorpio buys you a lot of innocence."

Jason leaned against the counter watching Robin put together their lunch when suddenly he walked over to the coat rack and grabbed their jackets. "Here, put this on." He shoved a purple and cream parka at her.

"Jason, it's really coming down outside. I think we should stay here."

"Just trust me," he said, pushing her out the door.

Outside the silence wrapped itself around them. Closing her eyes, Robin shoved her hands in her pockets, and lifted her face up to the snow. "It's so peaceful." She opened her eyes and looked around Mac's backyard. "It looks like we've gotten at least 6 inches already."

"At least," Jason said. "And we're going to put them to good use."

Robin held up her hands. "Uh, Jase? I'm not having a snowball fight with you."

"Not what I had in mind," Jason said. "Now, get on the ground."

"Excuse me?" Robin laughed.

"My favorite thing to do when I was a kid was to make snow angels. A.J. always wanted to go to the top of the highest hill in our yard with the latest and fastest sled, but me? I just wanted to lie down in the snow, looking up at the sky and make a whole heavens worth of snow angels."

Robin smiled the first, genuine smile she had in days and dropped to her knees, throwing herself backwards into a fresh pile of powder. "Get down here, Quartermaine!" Robin pulled on Jason's leg, urging him down to the ground next to her. Her laughter was infectious, and Jason found himself laughing with her on the frozen ground, their arms and legs swishing through the snow wildly. Suddenly she stopped. "Look at it Jason. It's so beautiful."

Jason turned his head to see Robin looking at the sky, tears escaping but still smiling, her eyelashes catching snowflakes.

"It sure is," Jason whispered. "It sure is…"

The snowflakes fluttered in his eyes, a different Jason now. He blinked rapidly, trying to get his bearings. There was a dull ache in his head and he couldn't seem to focus. Jason looked down at his hands, the familiar heavy weight of a gun clenched in his right fist. The feeling was at once soothing and frighteningly unfamiliar. A black shape lay on the ground beneath him, and Jason Morgan lowered to his knees to get a closer look. The object started to come into focus slowly and fear gripped him as he realized it was a body.

"Hey, mister. You okay?" Another shooting pain seared through him and Jason gripped his head with both hands.

"Mac?!"

A familiar voice cut through his pain. Lowering his hands from his head, Jason took another look at the still figure lying next to him. "Mac?" This time _his_ voice croaked out the name. "Oh God. Mac?"

Silently, the snowflakes fell, onto Mac's unseeing eyes.

"Mac?!"

The voice was closer. Jason dropped the gun and searched for a pulse. "Mr. Scorpio? You're going to be okay." Long ago buried memories of pre-med courses and volunteer work flashed through his mind, and Jason wracked his brain, trying to figure out what he could do to help Robin's uncle. "Your pulse is weak-"

A loud clang snapped something inside Jason. Whoever was looking for Mac was close. Torn by the desire to help Mac and the instinct to run away, Jason reached for the gun beside him and ran to a doorway bathed in shadows.

Rounding the corner at full speed, Lucky Spencer stopped abruptly when he saw the body on the ground and dropped to his knees. "Mac, you hold on for me." Pulling out his cell phone he dialed 911 with shaky fingers. "This is Detective Lucky Spencer. We have an officer down at Pier 39. It's Commissioner Scorpio. Please, you have to send an ambulance immediately!"

* * *

Patrick sighed and put down the paper his friend Pete Marquez had suggested he read to get acclimated in Port Charles. "Moral relativism…" The theories posted by Alan Robles in his article certainly held a lot of merit. Frankly, Patrick thought, he wouldn't have believed it had he not experienced it for himself time and again. He wondered if Robles had spent any time in Port Charles while compiling his research. No wonder, he thought now, Pete had left New York and settled down in this two horse town. What better inspiration for an aspiring novelist than this place?

Pete, his brother in the pursuit of women, was now a professor at Port Charles University, a career choice that Patrick had no doubt came down to Pete's desire to never leave college life and the accessibility to nubile coeds. Marquez had emailed the philosophy paper to him in response to Patrick's stunned observation that a scant month after the Encephalitis epidemic swept through Port Charles it seemed to have been forgotten. What anywhere else would have remained in the public consciousness for generations wasn't even mentioned in passing; it was onwards to the next crisis. It was disturbing to Patrick in the same way that seeing decent people mingling with mobsters. Hell, even Robin, the most moral person he knew, had dated a hit man and was called sister by the biggest mob boss in town. Robles's paper encapsulated it all perfectly. Moral relativism didn't just describe the mafia either. It was parents like Frisco and Felicia Jones. Luke Spencer with his kids. Anna and Robert with Robin. All the women who dated the mobsters. Even, Patrick admitted, him and his father after Maddie died.

Patrick shook his head and looked at the paper he had just finished reading. Professor Pete was right, it summed up life in Port Charles perfectly. "No wonder Robin fled to France and hid in a lab," Patrick muttered as he reached blindly for his beeper which was going off. Seeing the 911 page for the ER he frowned and turned it off. He jumped up, grabbed his lab coat and rushed out of the lounge.

**

* * *

  
**

"What do we have?" he barked at the medics who were wheeling the patient through the door of the ER.

"GSW to the chest. No exit wound."

"How close to the heart?" he asked as he followed them into the room and circled around the gurney impatiently, waiting for them to uncover the wound.

"Doctor, it's Commissioner Scorpio," one of the paramedics said.

A jerk of Patrick's head was the only sign that he had heard them. "I asked, how close to the heart!" He pushed their hands out of the way. "Call Dr. Monica Quatermaine. We need to get to an OR now!"

"OR3 is cleared for us. Go now!" Epiphany directed the rest of the staff as she hung up the telephone. "Dr. Quatermaine will meet us there."

The gurney moved out of the way between them. They stood looking at each other silently for a moment. "Dr. Scorpio needs to be called." Epiphany nodded. Patrick swallowed heavily and then turned to walk out of the exam room. "Then meet me in OR3."

Once outside the room Patrick stopped and took a deep breath. His tongue darted out and he licked his bottom lip. "You can do this, Drake," he whispered to himself, swiping his hand over his chin.

**

* * *

  
**

_Robin rolled over and felt for Patrick, but he wasn't there. She opened her eyes and saw him sitting up on the edge of his side of the bed, his head in his hands. Wordlessly, he got up and slowly walked to the bedroom door._

"_Patrick?"_

_No response._

_As he flung open the door, Patrick stepped not into their living room, but the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam's red light district. It was nighttime, and the red glow from the storefront windows and the dingy yellow shimmer from the gas street lamps splayed across the cobblestone streets. There were so many people, yet it was silent._

"_Patrick? Where are you going? Come back!" Robin tried to call after him, but no sound came out. She jumped out of bed and followed him._

"_NO!" she gasped as she watched Patrick approach the church. Her body began to tremble in terror. "Patrick, please don't go in there." Still she could make no sound, and Patrick surged forward._

_She saw his lips move almost in silent prayer fitting to the church he was about to enter. Her eyes focused on the ornate brass sign reading "Marry in haste, repent at leisure" poised above the bright red door of the church. She watched as he steeled himself, opened the door to Oude Kerk and quickly slipped inside. _

_Then nothing. _

_Finally, there was sound. The loud boom seemingly coming from all around her, washing over her. And then a flash. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, and then a loud rumbling and crash after crash; it was deafening. It was so loud she couldn't hear her screams, but she could feel her throat, raw and burning._

_Robin ran at full speed towards the church, towards Patrick, but it felt like she was running in sand and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Finally reaching the pile of rubble that once was Oude Kerk, she forced her way through the red door, running through hallways on fire, thick black smoke all around her. Rounding a corner she saw a body. A head full of dark hair. "Please, God. No," Robin whispered. "Patrick? No, no, no," she cried. Sliding on her knees until she rested next to the body, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and turned him towards her to see the face of another man she loved with her whole heart. "Uncle Mac?"_

Her screams now were very loud and rang through her empty apartment. Robin sat bolt upright in bed, realizing that the phone was ringing and the shrill bell intermingled with her terrified screams. Brow thick with sweat, and her heart beating out of her chest with terror, she realized that it was all a horrible dream. Patrick had gone into Oude Kerk seconds before it had been blown up, but he had done it under the supervision of her mother and Sean as part of a bigger plan to find her and rescue her, and he had exited the historic church just as quickly and safely. Patrick was okay and working a night shift at the hospital. They were all okay and back in Port Charles. And her Uncle Mac? Well she had just seen him hours earlier at a Sunday dinner he had put together for the entire extended Scorpio clan, which included Devanes, Drakes and Donnelys. Uncle Mac was fine.

The phone wouldn't stop ringing, so Robin leaned over to her nightstand and picked up the cordless. "Hello?" She was still breathless from her nightmare.

"Dr. Scorpio?"

"Epiphany? Is everything okay?" Robin's heart sank. Something _was_ wrong.

"You need to get to General Hospital immediately."

END Part 1


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The double doors towered in front of her. The metal looked cold and hard, as if they would hurt to touch. As she got closer and stepped on the sensor, they whooshed open and out poured light to breach the dark. She hesitated before stepping from the anonymous night into the fury of the emergency room and the news that awaited her.

For a few seconds all she heard was the click of her shoes on the tiled floor and then the achingly familiar noise hit her like a tidal wave. Sounds of voices yelling, gurneys squeaking, charts being opened and closed, the phones ringing and pagers beeping filled the spaces of the room that wasn't taken up with rushing bodies and moving gurneys filled with injured citizens. As she walked further inside the volume became deafening, so different than the silent lab she had been stuck in day after day, night after night. It was, she realized in some disassociated part of her mind, the first time she had been in the hospital since before she had left. Taken, another thought reminded her and an image from her dream made her shiver. Left, she silently insisted, fighting against the old panic that offered to distract her from the new tragedy awaiting her.

"Watch it!"

She jumped back, just in time, and gasped as a gurney whipped past her. She blinked and let out a breath. She looked left. Then right. She recognized faces. Her colleagues. She tried to make sense of it all, to get past Epiphany's urgent voice echoing in her head.

"_Immediately!"_

Then the reports on the radio told her more than she wanted to know and less than she needed to know.

"Dr. Scorpio?" Dr. Alan Quatermaine's voice broke through the noise in the room and echoed in Robin's head for a moment before she realized it was real. She turned her head to look at him.

"Where is he?" she grasped onto the supportive hand touching her arm.

"Let's talk in here." Alan firmly gripped Robin's arm and pulled her around the desk into an empty exam room. "You're Uncle Mac is in surgery. We lost him a couple of times in the ambulance on the way in, but he's holding his own right now."

"Who's doing the surgery?"

"Patrick and Monica. The bullet nicked his heart and is lodged near the spine. He's getting the very best medical care possible," Alan said gently and confidently.

"I want to observe." The sluggishness of Robin's mind disappeared as she began to focus on the medical technicalities instead of the unknown of emotions.

"I don't think this is something that you should watch, Robin."

Something in Alan's words made Robin catch her breath. "Tell me the truth, is he going to make it?" Robin blinked hard and bit on her bottom lip.

"There's a chance with Patrick and Monica operating."

Robin closed her eyes and nodded. Tears streaked down her cheeks.

"You should be in the waiting room with your family. I'll take you." With her eyes closed, Robin didn't see the unspoken concern in Alan's dark eyes. Concern for both of his young doctors. One who had just returned from an ordeal and was still more fragile than he had seen her since Stone died and the other who was likely to lose on the table the Uncle of the woman he had finally let into his heart.

**

* * *

  
**

Jason tried to remember the first time he'd met Sonny. Probably through Robin, when she was dating Stone. He vaguely remembered not liking him - something to do with Karen Wexler, but he couldn't remember specifically. The memories were coming, but he couldn't control what or when. The truth was, he didn't want these memories, these glimpses into the man who was Jason Quartermaine. He wanted to forget. He _needed_ to forget. Except… There were memories he was happy to have back. A baseball game with his dad, Christmas Eve with a young, innocent A.J. where the brothers tried to stay awake to meet Santa, a blizzard filled with snow angels… Steeling himself, he entered the Corinthos foyer and paused slightly before pushing his way into the inner sanctum.

The diminutive crime lord stood at his desk, yelling into the phone. He looked up at the sound of the door opening. "Never mind. He just walked in." Sonny hung up the phone and turned to face Jason. "Where the hell have you been?"

"We've got a problem," Jason responded.

"You don't say," Sonny deadpanned. "Jason, our business is all over the TV! Now tell me what the hell happened and where you've been. Why haven't you answered your phone?"

"The drop didn't go off as planned." Sonny scoffed at this, and Jason went on. "Alcazar's men showed up, I saw at least three of Masucci's men, and someone must have tipped off the cops because all of a sudden the waterfront was crawling with them."

"The police pick today to start actually patrolling?" Sonny asked incredulously.

"Giorgio Masucci or Diego Alcazar – I'm not sure who – took a shot at one of our guys and we were stuck in a full on gun battle between three mob families and half the Port Charles police force."

"I know. It's all over the news, Jason." Sonny paused and swept his hand over his mouth. "Mac Scorpio was shot." He walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink.

Jason couldn't look at Sonny, and quickly made the decision not to tell him that he may have been the one to put a bullet in Mac's chest. "He must have been caught in the crossfire," Jason whispered.

"How many men did we lose?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know." Sonny laughed, and in a flash his demeanor exploded. "What the hell have you been doing all this time? We need containment!"

Jason's right temple started to throb. This was how it always started. He needed to get out of there and fast. "I'll take care of it." Jason grabbed the edge of the couch, hoping Sonny wouldn't notice he was having trouble keeping his balance.

"Where's your gun? We need to have Max dispose of it." Sonny picked up his glass of scotch and took a sip. "You know the cops will be sniffing around here for Mac's shooting. Not to mention they're still trying to pin Carly's murder on me."

"I'll take care of it." Jason felt the cold metal of the snub in his pocket.

"Jason-"

"I said I'll take care of it!"

Sonny looked at him over the rim of his glass as he took one last swig of the amber liquid and nodded. "OK." He walked over to the man he loved like a brother and trusted with his life. "This needs to end, Jason. Port Charles is my territory." Sonny's demeanor again switched and he smiled. "I've tried to be nice, but Alcazar and Masucci aren't getting the message. Well, I'm not holding back any longer." Sonny put his arm around Jason's shoulders and walked him to the door. "We're going to take them both out. It's time."

Jason nodded, desperate to get out before his headache became debilitating.

"I'm going to head over to the hospital to pay my respects to Robin and check on Mac's condition," Sonny said. "We'll meet back here in a couple of hours to talk next steps." Sonny stopped as they reached the front door and he opened it. "It ends now, Jason. If a war is what it takes, I'll do what it takes."

**

* * *

  
**

"Robin! How are you?" Anna Devane rushed over to her daughter the moment she came into view. She put her hands on Robin's arms and leaned in, taking in her daughter's pale face and the dark circles that told of nightmares that hadn't gone away yet. She stroked a cheek, feeling the telltale moisture that told of shed tears. Anna's heart shredded just a little bit more. Her baby had already been through so much because of who her parents were and Anna was once again helpless to protect her girl from the pain. She took Robin into her arms and stroked her hair.

"Where's Dad? He should be here." Robin pulled out of her mother's arms. "He'll want to know about Mac."

"Honey." Sean Donely walked over and put his hand on Robin's shoulder. "I've called Robert. He's not far from here. He'll be here as soon as he can."

"I hope it's soon enough." Robin wrapped her arms around herself.

"Robin, your Patrick is operating; your Uncle Mac is going to be fine."

"Your mother's right. Patrick might not be much in the field, but I'm sure he's better in the operating room." Sean smiled charmingly, but then the smile slipped when he saw that his attempt at levity had failed to lift his goddaughter's mood.

"Darling, is it really that bad?" Anna asked quietly, uncertain if the darkness in her daughter's eyes was knowledge or fear. She looked up as Noah approached. "Noah?"

Robin glanced over to where her cousins, Maxie and Georgie were sitting, their hands clasped and their faces worried. Tiffany Hill-Donely was sitting on one side, while Dillon was sitting beside Georgie. All the while Maxie was watching Lucky who was across the room with other cops. Robin sighed and struggled to compose herself for their sake.

"It's not good," Noah confirmed what Robin was trying to tell them. He looked at Robin questioningly. At her nod he continued. "He probably won't make it through surgery. The damage to his heart is just too devastating."

"Oh no." Anna clasped Robin's hand. "Should we prepare people? Georgie and Maxie?"

"I'm going to talk to them," Robin said softly. It was going to be so hard for them to lose the only reliable parent they'd ever had. She had long been on her own and it was hard enough. She walked over to them and sat down in the seat that Tiffany vacated for her and put her arm around Maxie's shoulders and put her hand over the sister's combined ones. "I need to talk to you."

Anna crossed her arms and watched her daughter put aside her own worry and fear to comfort her cousins. Two other children who had been abandoned by their parents' sense of responsibility and, she admitted, thirst for adventure. She sighed and tried to think of what she could do or say to make things better. So caught up in her study she didn't notice Noah moving closer.

"There's nothing we can do but be there to catch them," Noah whispered quietly.

His quiet, wise words caused her head to turn. "Seems like nothing under the circumstances." She sighed and shook off her reverie. "This shouldn't have happened, Noah. Not to Mac. Not to Robin or those girls. This city is under siege by these animals. And of course my ex-husband is off on some adventure while this is going on."

"Anna-" Sean started.

"No excuses, Sean. Robert is needed here and he's not here. I know I'm on thin ice, you don't need to say it."

"I'm going to go check on the surgery and get you an update." He squeezed Anna's arm before walking away. As he approached, the elevator opened and out came Aidan Devane with a battered looking brown messenger bag on his shoulder. "Aidan," Noah greeted him warmly.

The two men shook hands and exchanged some quiet words before Noah got into the elevator.

Aidan strode over to where Anna was still standing with Sean and now Tiffany. They all exchanged greetings. Aidan looked over at Robin. "How is she?" he asked.

"We're Devanes. We'll make it through. I'm sorry to have cancelled our meeting. Do you have it?"

He nodded and looked around. His expression went blank when he saw the cops on the other side of the room. "We shouldn't do this here," he said, his voice low. "I'll go talk to Robin, while you find us a room."

"This can't wait?" Anna asked.

"I heard it was Lucky Spencer who found Mac?" His eyes strayed back towards the knot of cops.

"Yes, that's true," Anna confirmed, her voice and expression startled by the question.

"It can't wait." Aidan strode over to his cousin. Anna looked between her family and the cops. As Anna watched, Lucky Spencer separated from the crowd and walked towards Maxie, watching Aidan closely. A chill she couldn't explain went down her spine.

"If this is about the hard drive then I should be in this meeting," Sean said at her elbow.

Anna didn't even bother to pretend to be surprised. "Fine. Then you go find a private room for us to talk." She turned her head and gave him a sour look.

Sean's expression was grim as he walked off to do as he was bid.

The ease of his cooperation and his knowledge about the hard drive ratcheted up Anna's suspicions. She looked back towards Aidan with her daughter and then at Lucky and back again.

**

* * *

  
**

"You!" Lucky Spencer yelled out across the hospital floor causing an abrupt end to all sounds on the floor except the ringing of the telephone. Sonny Corinthos, wearing a long black wool coat, was walking off the elevator surrounded by his towering protection detail. One of them was carrying an inordinately large flower arrangement and looking decidedly uncomfortable. He looked over at Lucky's accusing cry, an impatient expression on his face.

Lucky broke free of his partner and Maxie's attempt to restrain him and rushed past the surprised waiting room congregants and hospital staff and launched himself onto the much smaller man before the bodyguards could stop him.

"Lucky, no!" Maxie yelled out and rushed after him, one of the cops grabbed her around the waist.

The flowers dropped to the floor and many hands went towards guns secured at waist level, Max bent down trying to find a way to extricate his boss with a minimum of damage.

"Maxie!" Georgie cried out and went to rush after her sister, but Tiffany and Dillon restrained her. "Someone stop them!"

Robin Scorpio was way ahead of her. She was behind the nurse's station and put the phone on loudspeaker. "Stop it! This is a hospital not the gym! You!" She pointed at Max. "Break this up. You put your gun away. You," she told Rodriguez, "Take your partner and cool him off!"

Instead of Rodriguez, it was Aidan who had just come from down the hall with Anna and Sean who grabbed onto Lucky Spencer. He manhandled the squirming cop away from where Sonny was straightening his scarf and coat and trying to look menacing even though he had a split lip and was surrounded by the taller, younger men who all vied to one day take his place.

Aidan pulled a struggling Lucky away from the crowd and looked for a place to slip away with him when his eyes locked with Anna's grave looking ones. He sighed. "Calm down, Spencer, or I'll knock you cold." He shook Lucky once for good measure before tossing him away. He looked at Sean just as the room quieted down again.

He turned and from the hall behind him Patrick Drake was coming, a grave look on his face.

His first thought was the same as Robin's. "It's too soon."

END Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

He lost him.

Each step felt like he was walking through quicksand. He could see their faces – the hope shining through even though they had to know the outcome. He hadn't been in there close to long enough to complete a surgery even half as complex as this one. Monica had offered to be the one to tell the family, but he had a deeper obligation to these people; he had to do it. That didn't make it any easier.

He could see the stark knowledge shining out of Robin's beautiful brown eyes as he approached. Her eyes softened as she looked at him and he was again staggered at the unending well of compassion of the woman he was lucky enough to fall in love with. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her arms and breathe in her lavender-vanilla scent, but his job now was to stand there and tell these people that he had been unable to save a good man and then he had to go back to the operating room to save one who was not.

There weren't supposed to be those kinds of judgments made in his profession, but he couldn't help himself as he delivered the words that shattered the waning remainders of hope. He knew Mac. Knew the kind of person he was, knew how protective he was of his girls, his friends, his family and this city. Knew that he didn't deserve to be cut down trying to do just that. The unfairness would eat at him when this day was done and his hands were still.

"I'm so, so sorry." His voice broke and he swallowed back tears. One fell free when Robin put her fingers on his hand. Her touch was light, soft. Tender. He sighed and apologized again, this time just for her ears.

"I know you did everything you could, Patrick. You and Monica. Alan told me about the damage to his heart. It was beyond your control, Patrick," she told him, her voice rough with tears, but strong and certain and loud enough for everyone to hear her.

Patrick swallowed and nodded. He turned his hand to clasp hers. He looked at her questioningly for a moment before pulling her closer and into his arms. He leaned down and breathed her in. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Robin just shushed him and stroked his head.

"I have to go back." He lifted his head and looked into her face. "There are more wounded. I could say no if you need me. I should, I should tell them no."

"Patrick. You're a doctor; you have to stay and save lives. I should stay tonight at…Mac's with my cousins and my mother."

Patrick stroked Robin's hair off her face and then traced her bottom lip with his thumb. "You call me if you need me. I don't care if I'm in the middle of a surgery, I'll come. Promise me."

"I promise. Go save lives."

Patrick closed his eyes. "I wish I could have saved your Uncle. He was a good man," he whispered.

"I was lucky to have him." More tears slipped down Robin's cheek. "Go, I'm not alone. Come when you can."

Patrick pressed a kiss to her lips before stepping back and looking for Anna. She was standing with his father, keeping one eye on Robin and listening to whatever it was he was saying.

"He's taking it hard," Noah said quietly to Anna, his attention also on his child. "Robin is gracious beyond words, but he's taking it hard."

"Mac was the only stable parent she ever had. He meant the world to her. I-" she stopped and sighed.

"Robin will get through this, she's strong."

"It's barely been a week since she got home."

"She's going to be fine. We're all here to make sure of that." Noah squeezed her shoulder. "I have to get to the O.R. I'll call you later."

"I'll be at Mac's with Robin and Felicia's girls. Aidan told me what he found on the hard drive and it doesn't sound good."

"Robin?"

"Not about her, but if what Aidan suspects is true it's going to be another blow for all of us." Anna turned her head and looked at the knot of people gathered around Frisco and Felicia's girls. Noah couldn't tell if she was looking at anyone in particular, but something in her eyes told him she was.

"I have to go." He leaned in and then jerked back, glanced around and then leaned back in and pressed a kiss to Anna's cheek before heading over to Patrick who was exchanging words with Aidan.

"You'll go home with them?" Patrick was asking Aidan when Noah reached them.

"Definitely, mate."

Patrick nodded and looked back towards Robin as Noah and Aidan exchanged a quick greeting.

"Come on, Son," Noah said.

Patrick took one last look at Robin before turning and walking down the hall with his father.

**

* * *

**

"So," she spoke slowly and deliberately. "Were you with her again?"

Jason had barely walked through the door of the penthouse before Sam started in on the questions. "Please, not now." He closed his eyes, his hand still pressed against the door knob wondering if he should turn around and leave again. But where would he go? He had no one to turn to, didn't know who he should trust anymore, and his headache, which had momentarily dulled, was pounding its way back.

"Were you with Liz?"

"No. It was business. And you know I can't say any more."

He was right, she knew he couldn't talk about his work, and it was something she was willing to accept. What she couldn't forget and wasn't willing to accept was his one night with Elizabeth Spencer. No matter how many times he said it was a mistake, that it meant nothing.

Tears started to spill and Sam hugged herself. "Well what did you expect me to think? You've been so distant lately, Jason." She walked over to the desk and picked up a folded piece of paper. "We need to talk, Jason."

"Sam, it's not about you. Can you grasp that concept?"

Leaving Sam to gape at his back, he lumbered up the stairs and into his bedroom. Pulling the gun out of his jacket pocket, he placed it on the bureau and stared at it. He shook the leather jacket off of his shoulders and threw it on a chair, then crossed to his closet, pulling down a large box. Michael and Morgan had given him a bunch of multi colored t-shirts for his last birthday, and since he wasn't really prone to wearing red and purple, they had stayed in this box under a pile of sweaters that Emily and Monica had given him the past few Christmases. This was as good a place as any to hide the gun until he could figure out what to do with it.

Jason closed his eyes and felt himself start to sway. He closed the closet door and headed for the bathroom. Shaking four ibuprofen into his palm he threw them in his mouth, swallowing the pain killers without water. He leaned on the bathroom counter and looked at himself in the mirror under the harsh overhead light. It was ironic, really, that Sam was so worried about Liz. Jason hadn't given her a second thought after the one night they spent together. It was another woman entirely who was taking up his dreams. A woman who had loved him as two different men. A woman he now remembered loving as both of them.

The headache was back in full force, and his vision was starting to blur. Jason walked over to the bed and lay on top of the covers, too weak to even get underneath the blankets. Begging for sleep to come and take the pain away, he closed his eyes and gave way to the dreams.

**

* * *

  
**

It had been too long.

He wanted to take his time with her, but she had pulled his head to hers and hungrily kissed him, and then all thought left him except how good she felt. He pushed her against the wall and her moan only intensified their passion. He deepened the kiss, pressing her body closer. He just couldn't get enough of her. After all that time, being with her felt like it had all those years ago, before lies and circumstances ripped them apart. He picked her up suddenly, causing her to gasp, and then laugh as he dropped her on the bed.

The shrill ring of his Blackberry echoed in the hotel room. He pulled away from her and turned his head toward the sound.

"Ignore it," she breathed, pulling his face back to hers.

"You know I can't." He grabbed the PDA from the nightstand, scrolling to his newest text message.

_Mac Scorpio shot. Killed. Things spiraling faster than anticipated.  
New subject close at hand. You're needed here now._

The WSB agent ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Flopping back against the pillows, he brushed aside the long blonde hair covering her face. "Princess?"

"You've got to leave." Her words were muffled as she spoke into the pillow. Felicia Jones lifted her head up and blew her hair out of her eyes. "You've gotta give them credit. They have impeccable timing." She let her hand wander down his chest and over his abs which were as well defined as they had been 20 years ago. "Frisco, they do remember you just got back from Bulgaria? You're supposed to have a break. _We're_ supposed to have a break."

"It's starting."

Felicia's smile faded as she sat up. "Phase one?"

Frisco nodded. "Yeah, but Felicia, there's more." At her confused look he took her hand and went on. "Mac's dead."

"What? How?"

"I don't have any details." Frisco got up and grabbed the pair of jeans that had been unceremoniously flung on the floor moments before.

"I thought we agreed to keep Mac out of this? Robert insisted!"

"He wasn't involved in this."

"Then what the hell happened, Frisco?" Felicia put her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, crying. "I knew this would happen if we kept Mac in the dark. We let him go into a dangerous situation without all the facts! We might as well have killed him ourselves."

"Honey, we don't know what happened. Mac was the Police Commissioner. You know as well as I do that's a dangerous occupation, and Port Charles isn't exactly on USA Today's list of the safest cities in America. Anything could have happened."

"But it wasn't anything, was it?" At his silence, she started putting her clothes back on and walked over to the dresser, her back to Frisco. "Mac didn't deserve this. He was a good man. He became a father for Maxie and Georgie when you went off to save the world and I-"

"This isn't your fault," Frisco interrupted. He walked over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. "I can deal with the initial assignment. I think you need to get to the girls. They'll need their mother."

"They need their father too, Frisco."

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and bent down to yank his sweater off the floor. "They just lost their father, didn't they?"

**

* * *

  
**

Robert held up a finger and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He was standing in the middle of a room with no windows in the midst of a u-shaped set up of tables. Seated at the tables were men in suits, and one woman. There were pitchers of water, but nothing else. No papers and no name tags. They sat silently while Robert spoke in clipped tones into his phone.

Robert, looking somber, put the phone back into his pocket. Righteous anger filled him.

"The Police Commissioner, my brother, is now dead. Killed by the very criminal element we've been wasting time talking about over the past week. Do you still think that the authorities in Port Charles can handle this? Are we really going to wait until another murder of an official goes unsolved and the murderers unpunished?"

"What you're asking us to do is unprecedented," the gray-haired man sitting in the center said.

"Only until you do it," Robert said.

"I agree with Mr. Scorpio," the woman interjected calmly. "We have incontrovertible evidence before us that this step needs to be taken. In light of the vacancy this criminal action has created it's not only our responsibility, but our obligation to fill it immediately without waiting for the corrupt politicos to use it to their advantage."

There was a mumble of voices. Then the leader called them to order and called for a vote.

"Congratulations and condolences, Commissioner Scorpio."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"You don't look so good."

"Thanks for the pep talk, Dad," Patrick grunted as he pulled off his scrubs top and tossed it aside.

"If you want a pep talk, I can give you a pep talk. Tell you about how you did all you could do for your girlfriend's foster father. How you're still the greatest surgeon in this hospital just behind me," Noah said in an off-hand manner as he opened his locker.

"You're not better," Patrick grumbled as he pulled off his scrubs pants and tossed them into the pile with his shirt and socks.

"I'm not the one who fucked up today," Noah said as he began to undress.

"I didn't fuck up!" Patrick yelled and slammed his locker shut. He turned and glared at his father who was continuing unperturbed to change into one of his ever-present rock t-shirts and worn jeans.

"Glad you know that much." Noah turned his head and looked at his son who was quivering with rage beside him. "You might want to get dressed before you go outside. Not that the nurses and a few doctors would mind."

Patrick covered his eyes with his hands. "I survived just fine without the fatherly head games for a long time, Dad." He took his hand down and began to turn the combination of his locker.

"I have a lot of time to make up for." Noah pushed his wallet into the back of his jeans and walked up to Patrick. "Where you are right now really stinks, Patrick."

"Standing half-naked with my father in a locker room? Got that right."

"Patrick," Noah sighed.

"Dad, I know you want to help, but there is nothing you can do."

"I lost your mother on the table, Patrick. I've been where you are and I can see where you might be heading."

"I'm not going to throw away my career and start drinking, all right?" Patrick rolled his eyes and began buttoning his blue shirt.

"Not because you lost Mac, but what about if you lose Robin?"

Patrick frowned as he straightened the cuffs on his shirt and reached into his locker for his jeans. He pulled on his jeans and looked at his father in exasperation as Noah was still standing there watching him. "I'm not going to lose Robin, okay! She doesn't blame me."

"No, the rational part of her brain knows there was nothing you or Monica could do. Just as the rational part of your brain knows that. It's the emotions that can get the best of both you." Noah paused and licked his lips. "As a doctor I know there was nothing I could have done for your mother, but as a husband, she died under my hands."

Patrick unconsciously mimicked his father's mannerism and licked his own lips. "I didn't blame you for losing her, just for not telling me and deserting me when I needed you." Patrick cleared his throat.

"Is that really true or did my actions afterwards just lend a good cover for those other feelings?"

"Maybe. Does it really matter?" He shrugged one shoulder and looked away.

"No, it doesn't matter. I just want you to go into the minefield prepared and to know that I'm here for cover if you need it."

Patrick's dark eyes deepened in color. "Thanks, Dad."

"I love you, Son." Noah clapped his hand on his son's shoulder.

**

* * *

  
**

"I was coming back here to apologize to you, brother. I had no idea I would be too late." Robert Scorpio pulled the sheet off his brother's face.

A quick hack into the records room computer has told him which drawer to find the body of his brother. When Mac's still, peaceful face was revealed, Robert let out a deep sigh. "You shouldn't have been on that pier. You wouldn't have been if I had gone faster. If they had decided faster."

"There's a lot of things you wouldn't have been doing if you weren't still trying to make up for killing our parents and Lily. Some I'll forever be grateful to you for, some you never should have tried. I was coming back here to tell you that being Police Commissioner was one of those things. There were things you were good at, not being a pilot obviously," Robert paused to wince at his own bluntness. "But you were a good con artist, a creative sailor, and the Outback, that was a good idea, it suited you. I don't know what happened after that. Someone told you the Scorpio name made you qualified for Police Commissioner. Someone convinced you it would be the redemption you kept seeking."

"Even if I hadn't seen the evidence myself it wasn't hard to figure out that it was a crooked politician in the pocket of the local mafia. What I don't get is why you didn't quit, why you kept trying to do a job that you had no hope of succeeding at. Too many of your officers, the DA's office and the judges. Hell, practically everyone around you was in the pocket of the local mob. Some of who don't even realize that they themselves are in the pocket of an organization you were nowhere near equipped to deal with."

Robert ran his fingers through the back of his hair before pulling something out of his pocket.

"But that's always been you, whatever happened you didn't quit. I guess that was the quality Robin needed most after her mother and I were gone. I know you did your best to protect her." He opened his hand to reveal a medallion.

Robert pulled the sheet down further and slipped the medallion into Mac's hand. "I'm not here to lay blame for my little girl getting HIV and you letting her live with a mobster hit man. It's too late for that and I know how stubborn she is. What I'm here to say is that I'm ready to pick up my own slack. I just wish I could have done it sooner." Robert squeezed Mac's hand. "I should have protected your life over your pride. For that I'm sorry."

Robert pulled the sheet up and held it hovering above Mac's face.

"There's another father here who's ready to pick up his own slack, too. We'll make it up to you. Your killer will be brought to justice. I promise you that." Robert dropped the sheet. Before he could push the drawer closed he heard a sound behind him. His hand reached for his gun and he spun around to face the intruder.

"Oh, it's you," Robert said disdainfully and put the gun back in its holster.

"I don't know whether to be relieved or insulted," Dr. Noah Drake said as he walked into the morgue. "Robin went back to Mac's house with her cousins and Anna."

"I know." Robert and Noah stood watching each other warily. "Are you going to berate me for not being here sooner, because I think my ex-wife wants that job?"

"I'm hardly one to talk." Noah shrugged.

"That never stops Anna."

"I'm not getting in the middle of you two." Noah held his hands palms up. "Let me help you." Noah walked past Robert and with a sober look on their faces the two men closed the drawer.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Noah said as Robert stuck his hands into the pocket of his brown wool coat.

"Of my wife or my brother."

Noah shook his head and chuckled. "Leave it to you to bring that up now."

"I'm crafty that way." Robert studied his nails innocently. "Speaking of crafty, has Anna found the guts to tell her daughter she's dating her boyfriend's father?"

"She hasn't found the right time." Noah looked uncomfortable with that fact.

"Meanwhile, Patrick is supposed to keep it from Robin. That's going to backfire on all of you."

"You're keeping the secret, too," Noah said. "Among others."

At that Robert looked up and his expression got serious again. "You shouldn't get involved, mate."

"I already am involved, whether you like it or not."

"Sleeping with…"

"Don't go there, Robert. I've known you a long time and I don't want to mess up my hands, but I'm not above some good ass kicking," Noah warned. "I live here, too, Robert. I helped save your daughter and your skin. I'm in this whether you like it or not."

"I appreciate that you got to dress up and start romancing my wife and parade around like some too-skinny drunk singer."

"Ex-wife."

Robert waved his hand dismissively. "Step back, Drake. We don't need you involved in this."

"In what exactly?" Noah paused and tilted his head. "It's not over is it? What happened to Robin is still going on here in Port Charles. Is she in danger? Is Patrick?"

"No more danger than any other citizen of Port Charles."

"I don't find that very comforting given the events of the past twenty-four hours."

"I'm not here to comfort you, Drake. Just keep your nose out of it." Robert walked past Noah, stopping in the doorway. "I'm counting on you to keep an eye on Robin and Anna for me."

Noah frowned, but before he could ask why Robert couldn't do it himself the man was gone. Noah put his hand on his hips and licked his bottom lip thoughtfully.

* * *

"Hey, you." Robin lowered herself into her Uncle Mac's favorite recliner and closed her eyes, happy to hear his voice. At peace for the first time since Patrick had uttered those words of condolence she felt surrounded by the two men she loved most.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Patrick asked, his worry coming through over the telephone.

"I miss him, Patrick. He's only been gone for a few hours and already I miss him like crazy. Leaving him and my family for all of those years seems so ridiculous now."

"You did what you thought was best, not to mention there was a certain Jason Morgan involved in forcing your hand." There was more than a little bitterness in the accusation.

"Patrick-"

"And you accomplished great things in Paris, Robin."

"Yeah, like distorted fear…" Robin closed her eyes. "I really don't want to talk about real life right now. Where are you?"

Patrick cradled his cell phone with his neck as he pulled the keys out of his pocket. "I'm just about to walk into the apartment. I figured I could run home and shower and then come over, if you wanted." He swung the door open, closed it with his hip and toed off his shoes, all in one swift movement.

"Hey, mate."

Patrick dropped the phone at the sound of the man's voice behind him.

"Patrick? Patrick?" Robin's voice sounded tiny from the cell phone on the floor.

"Jeez, Patrick. Jumpy?" At Aidan's familiar British lilt Patrick spun around.

"Do you blame me after the last few months?" Patrick asked as he bent over to pick up the phone. "I'm fine," he said to Robin. "Your secret agent cousin just surprised me."

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I told Aidan he could crash with us."

"You give him your key?"

"No."

Patrick looked over at Aidan who waved a slim, silver rod. "You really need to get better locks. These took me about 5 seconds to break." Aidan said.

Patrick turned his back to Aidan and whispered into the phone. "Have I told you lately how much your family scares me?"

"You know I can hear you," Aidan said.

"What are you talking about? From what I've seen and heard you're like a super spy in training," Robin said. "My Uncle Mac says that you…" Robin stopped and closed her eyes.

Patrick rubbed his head and sat on the couch. "Hey, Robin? You still there?" Aidan waved his hands and mouthed over to him that he was going to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

Robin sniffed, wiping at her tears. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I can't seem to go longer than 30 seconds before it hits me really hard that he's not coming back." She tried to laugh but it came out more like a hiccup. "He won't be around to make fun of your spy skills anymore."

"He was that impressed by me?" Patrick tried to make light, tried to make Robin laugh.

"He was plenty impressed by you. As a man. As the man who loved his niece with his whole heart," Robin whispered, then she choked out a laugh. "But your lock picking skills were brought into question."

Patrick closed his eyes, his heart breaking at the pain in Robin's voice. "Why don't I shower and head over there. You can tell me more stories about your Uncle, or we can sit quietly and I can hold your hand."

"Patrick, no. You need to get some rest," Robin picked at the fabric of the armrest. "You were in the OR for 15 hours straight. Get some sleep and come by tomorrow."

"I don't want you to be alone-"

"I'm far from alone. I've got my mom, Tiffany, Maxie and Georgie with me. We go from complete silence to Maxie and Georgie screaming at each other. It's definitely not boring."

"You know this is the first night we've been apart since you got back."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"No, Robin, don't be sorry. It's just that I promised you I wasn't going to let you out of my sight for the next 6 months, so I'm kinda breaking my vow here." Patrick glanced up as Aidan entered the living room with a plate overflowing with a giant sub.

"I miss you too. It's just that the girls are grieving and they're taking it out on each other and my mother isn't exactly equipped to handle sibling rivalry. Tiffany doesn't know what to do with the girls except offer to take them for manis and pedis. They need me."

"This Tiffany sounds like an older blonde version of Brenda," Patrick said. "Speaking of whom, have you called her yet?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see Aidan try not to look like he was listening in.

Robin let out a sigh. "Yeah, but she wasn't home so I left her a message to call me back." At the sound of a crash, Robin turned to look towards the kitchen.

"What was that?"

"I have no idea but it came from the kitchen and my mom is in there so it can't be good," Robin said. "I better go make sure she hasn't blown up anything. Get some sleep and call me when you get up, okay?"

"You got it. I love you." Patrick hung up the phone and threw it on the couch beside him.

"Brenda heading back to Port Chuck?" Aidan asked through a mouth full of food.

Patrick shook his head. "You are so transparent, even I can see what you're up to."

"What?"

"You got here pretty quick from Pine Valley."

"Yeah, sure," Aidan murmured, finding sudden interest in the remains of his sandwich.

"You were already here, weren't you?"

"I'm usually a better liar." Aidan sighed and rubbed his hand over his mouth. "Patrick, you really don't want to get involved in this."

"Aidan, if this has anything to do with Robin or your family, it's too late. I'm already involved."

"Let me put it this way, I don't want you involved."

"That bad?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. You continue with your brain surgeries and I'll take care of this."

"I don't know whether to be comforted or insulted," Patrick growled.

**

* * *

  
**

"What are they talking about in the kitchen?" Georgie asked.

"They're just organizing all the food that the neighbors and friends have dropped by," Maxie said disinterestedly. "What I don't understand is why we have to sit here all day."

"Because people are dropping by to pay their respects," Robin said.

"She just wants to go see Lucky, even though he hasn't technically moved out of his wife's house," Georgie said.

"Shut up. At least I didn't have a Kentucky-cousins wedding."

"Yeah, it's so much better that you're sleeping with a married man!"

"He's only technically married."

"And not to you!"

"Girls, please," Robin growled and stepped between the two sisters as the doorbell rang. "Maxie, please go get the door."

Maxie shot her sister one more dirty look before turning and stomping towards the door.

"Georgie, I know you're upset about Uncle Mac, but swiping at your sister isn't going to make you feel better."

"She started it! I don't know why I'm expected to be the better behaved sibling."

Robin bit back an annoyed retort. She had been riding herd on the Jones' sisters all morning while Tiffany, Bobbie Spencer and Anna hid out in the kitchen. At least it was a distraction, she thought.

Maxie came walking back into the living room. "Georgie?" she said in a small voice.

"Who is it?" Georgie looked up at her sister, the moment's earlier animosity gone.

Before Maxie could answer Felicia Jones came walking up behind her daughter and put her hand on Maxie's shoulder. "I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner. Hello, Robin. Georgie, are you going to say hello to your mother?" she asked her daughter who was standing stock still staring at her.

A moment later Georgie ran up to her mother and threw her arms around her and began to sob. Felicia gathered both girls in and they were sharing a good cry when Tiffany, Bobbie and Anna came walking out of the kitchen to check in on the commotion.

"Felicia!" Tiffany gasped and put her hands to her mouth.

Felicia looked up from her daughter's embrace and gave her old friend a teary smile.

Soon, all the women were hugging each other hello and murmuring words of condolence.

"He was a good man," Felicia said, her words lengthened by a drawl even though her Texas twang had disappeared years ago.

"The best," Anna agreed. "He did good by our girls."

"Yes, he did his best." Felicia nodded in agreement. "Do you need some help in the kitchen?"

"Actually, you may be the only one who can. We're both kind of helpless in that department," Tiffany said, her voice even more cultured by years of living in Boston.

Robin gave her mother a pleading look, which was pointedly ignored.

"Let's turn the television back on," Maxie whined when the older women had disappeared.

"Fine." Robin threw up her hands. They had turned it off earlier in upset with the non-ending coverage of Mac's murder and his legacy, which in the words of one local reporter, was one where crime flourished instead of being contained.

_And in breaking news, we have a news conference from the steps of City Hall. It's unclear at this time who called it, the message calling the conference came from the Governor's Office in Albany._

Robin did a double-take as the camera focused in on the steps of City Hall and out came a force of police – both local and state – the Governor and someone who looked absurdly like Robert Scorpio. Robin frowned and directed Georgie to make the television louder.

"_People of Port Charles," the Governor began. "The prayers and condolences of myself, my office, the Legislature and the people of New York are with the Scorpio family today…"_

Oh, Robin leaned back. Robert must have been there as a representative of the Scorpio family. Some kind of political PR move. Meanwhile, behind her, alerted by the rising the volume of the television, the four women came out of the kitchen to watch.

"Ooh, there's Lucky. He looks cute," Maxie commented. Georgie rolled her eyes.

"There's Scotty!" Bobbie said in surprise, while Felicia and Anna shared a look.

"_Under the powers granted to by the Constitution of the State of New York empowering the State government to be responsible for the health, safety and welfare of its citizens and related legislation, we have declared Port Charles to be under a state of police emergency. This unprecedented act is not taken lightly. Compelling evidence gathered by State and federal law enforcement agencies, including the Department of Justice, has shown me that this must be done. Therefore, we are overriding the powers of your local Mayor and have appointed an interim Police Commissioner to fill in the void left by Malcolm Scorpio's murder by persons heretofore unknown."_

_In addition, the Port Charles District Attorney's office is hereby placed under supervision of the State Attorney General's office and the current District Attorney is hereby removed from office. This action is being taken due to an analysis of the prosecutions made, refused, won and lost in the past five years that show a blatant disregard for the law, as well as the known conflicts of interest and criminal ties of the leaders of this important department. We have a court order approving this action and the City Council is at this time considering a measure to revise the qualifications for office and to hold a new election._

_I now present to you the interim Police Commissioner, Robert Scorpio. Mr. Scorpio, a former WSB-agent, should be familiar to all of you as he once served in this role. Under his tenure Port Charles was a safe place to live. We expect that his actions will help restore order to this City. Similarly, we reappoint Scott Baldwin to the position of interim District Attorney until a new one can be elected by the people. Thank you._

END OF CHAPTER 4


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Robert Scorpio Speaking –

"_Thank you, Governor. To the people of Port Charles I say that the violence must stop. People have the right to be safe in their homes, in the streets, in their schools and at their place of work. For far too long the criminal element has had the run of this city, without boundaries and without limits. Port Charles has become the playground of criminal gangs both local and international. It is a place where people intermingle with the criminal element as if they were celebrities. It is a place where the people entrusted to protect the citizens of this city is either a relative or former attorney for the criminals that are now charged to prosecute. The civil servants who do want to do their jobs can't because the people who are supposed to assist them in the pursuit of justice are paid off or threatened. With my re-appointment to the position as Police Commissioner I am here to tell you that those days are over. This city and its people are putting their collective foot down. A line has been drawn. The people of Port Charles will have justice. I will have justice for the vicious, unrepentant murder of the late police commissioner, my brother, Malcolm Scorpio. The criminal element in this city will be eradicated._

Mercer Square. How could a place be familiar yet foreign at the same time? Frisco looked around him as he stood at the intersection of Irvington and Mount Hope, thinking how different Port Charles seemed since he'd last been there – granted it hadn't been as long as everyone thought. He'd come back to check on his little girl when Maxie had lost her boyfriend – to mob violence no less. He'd snuck into Mac's house and watched her sleep fitfully, apologizing in a low voice that he hadn't been able to make a difference in time to save her beau. He sat with her until the sky went from the deepest purple to a cornflower blue, then kissed her and whispered how much he loved her before slipping out in the pre-dawn light.

He hid in the shadows for his brother's burial, smiling at the love he saw the boy with the silly rocker hair had for his baby. Had Georgie fallen for a musician like her mother? But this was the first time in over 10 years that he'd been out on the streets of Port Charles in broad daylight. It was different than he remembered. Frisco laughed, his eyes crinkling. Well, he was different too. His Port Charles persona had been a rock star, a police cadet, burgeoning WSB agent, husband, father…well, not much of a father. He'd been in deep cover so long with only the rarest conversations with Sean and Robert, and for the past few years his revived – what would you call it? relationship? - with Felicia. They were his only links to the Frisco he used to be. The man who stood here now had seen too many things, done too much to ever go back. That man was as dead as his brother, and a good thing too, as the compassionate Andrew "Frisco" Jones was a liability in his line of work. But when he allowed himself the luxury, he mourned for that man. He missed who he had been and loathed who he had become.

He shook his head defiantly. He couldn't let this place get to him. He had a job to do and the lives of the people he loved were on the line. Seeing a dark Lincoln Town Car approaching the intersection slowly, he bowed his head and stuck his hands in his pockets, waiting for the car to pass. Then he looked up at the historic brick apartment building and jogged across the street.

**

* * *

  
**

"Shit!" Aidan exclaimed.

Patrick woke with a start, looking around his surroundings before he realized he had fallen asleep on Robin's couch. He grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table to see what time it was and jerked up. He hadn't meant to sleep so long. He'd wanted to be at the Scorpio house 2 hours ago.

"I gotta go," he said to Aidan and he bounded off the couch and ran his hands through his hair. Looking around for his keys he glanced over at the Brit. "What's got you freaked out?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just Robert being Robert," Aidan said as he typed furiously on his Blackberry.

Patrick was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about when there was a sharp knock at the door. Spotting his keys on the side table, he swiped them and strode to the front door, yanking it open. An older man with sandy blonde hair stood on the other side, looking at him curiously.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for-"

"Jones."

Patrick looked over his shoulder at Aidan, who was glaring at the man in the hallway.

Frisco lowered his eyes. "Devane."

"Um…" Patrick looked from one to the other, hoping for an explanation, but the two men simply stared at each other. Finally, Aidan spoke.

"Where's your guitar, pretty boy?"

"Must have left it on the battlefield," Frisco snarked back.

"OK," Patrick said, shaking his head. "I'm off. Aidan, I'm assuming you can handle this?" He looked at Aidan, who still stood there standing and staring at the guy. Patrick stuck his hand out. "Patrick Drake-"

"I know," Frisco said quietly, still staring at Aidan.

"I'm assuming you know Devane, so I'm going to leave you in his capable hands." Patrick looked from one to the other. "Right." Annoyed, he stepped around the older man and headed down the hall. He could figure out who the mystery man was later. Right now his girl needed him.

"Not going to invite me in?" Frisco asked as he crossed the threshold and slammed the door shut.

**

* * *

  
**

Robin stormed outside the house when Scotty Baldwin came on to make his own victory speech. She paced one way and then the other trying to wrap her brain around the sequence of events. "That, that, that, ugh!" She threw her arms up in the air.

"Asshole?"

"What?" Robin spun around and then jerked back when she realized that she was mere inches from Patrick and that she was about to punch him.

"Are you all right?" Patrick hesitantly approached her.

"Do you know what's going on? Have you heard the great news?"

"Um, no?"

"My father! He's been appointed Police Commissioner."

"And that's bad because?"

"Because it had to be in the works before. Before." She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them. "He had to have had this in the works before Uncle Mac died. He's standing in front of City Hall giving pretty speeches with the Governor. It's some kind of emergency action to combat the mob influence on Port Charles."

Patrick pressed his lips together.

"Aren't you outraged? He was going to oust Mac. His getting killed was just convenient for him!"

"I can see that you're upset." Patrick reached for Robin. She pulled away from him and looked at him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"You agree with my father that Uncle Mac wasn't a good police commissioner! Don't you?"

"Robin, I never said that. And I bet that Robert didn't either."

"Yeah, he did, by having the Governor use emergency powers to appoint the Police Commissioner and a new D.A."

"You're upset about losing your uncle, I don't think we should talk about politics now."

"Politics? My Uncle Mac wouldn't have been police commissioner in the first place if my parents hadn't been pretending to be dead! And he did it to the best of his abilities and with integrity. That city liked him! Revered him!"

Patrick just looked at her not knowing how to respond.

"So tell me your opinion on politics, Dr. Drake." She put her hands on her hips.

Patrick licked his bottom lip, hoping for something or someone to intervene before he had to answer. Nothing saved him. "Your Uncle Mac died in a mob shoot-out. Doesn't that do anything to your lingering loyalty to Sonny his kind?"

"His kind? What kind is that?" Robin's voice was filled with affront.

"He's a mobster. We both see patients all the time that are the result of how he makes his living. He sells drugs. He runs prostitution rings. He owns strip clubs."

"I thought you liked strip clubs." Robin sneered.

"The point is that you don't, but somehow that doesn't seem to matter to you and to a lot of people in this town."

"Get out of here." Robin turned her back on him and crossed her arms.

"Robin. Can't we just drop this conversation? I want to be here for you."

"No. Leave."

Patrick stood waiting, but Robin didn't turn around. "You know where I am when you're ready." He turned, his head down and walked away.

Robin blew out the breath she had been holding and blinked back tears. Before she could gather herself Felicia came walking out of the house. "I thought you could use this," she handed Robin her camel-colored wool coat.

"Thank you." Robin put the coat on.

"I overheard some of the argument," Felicia said.

Robin shook his head. "I can't believe he was defending my father in this."

"Robin, you know that I loved Mac, very much. He was my best friend and more than that for a long time. He raised my girls. I owe him so much." Felicia crossed her arms and rubbed her arms. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" Robin was surprised enough by Felicia's non sequitur to blink and focus on the blond woman.

"Stay loyal to Jason and Sonny and to your Uncle Mac. It must be very difficult for you."

"It's not hard." Robin frowned and shook her head slowly.

"It is now. Mac was killed in a mob shoot-out and organized crime has this city by a stranglehold. I know you don't want to hear this because Jason once saved your heart, but he was there. He was part of the battle that killed your uncle and he was doing it under Sonny's orders."

"It wasn't Jason. He didn't. He wouldn't." Robin looked down, still frowning. Felicia put her hand on Robin's shoulder and squeezed.

"I can't say whether he did, but I can say that Mac would want you and every safe. That would be more important to him than his pride. He wouldn't want you fighting with Robert or Patrick to defend his honor. Or to push them away because you're hurting." Felicia put her hand on Robin's wet cheek before silently turning and going back into the house.

Robin put her hands in her pockets and blew out a breath. "That's all well and good, but I'm not done with my father yet." Robin walked off the porch.

**

* * *

  
**

_I will have justice for the vicious, unrepentant murder of the late police commissioner, my brother, Malcolm Scorpio. The criminal element in this city will be eradicated._

"_Sara un problema,"_ the wizened old man rasped.

"Si, babbo," Lino said. "I know he will be a problem."

Gianni Masucci sat in his recliner, watching the new police commissioner rage against everything he had worked so hard to build for his family, everything he had placed in his son's hands to run, and felt the rage build inside him.

Gianni had been a strapping man in his youth, though at 5'7" he wasn't what you would call physically intimidating. Until you crossed him. You underestimated his strength and menacing presence only once. He left Italy at the age of 15, landing first in New York City where he worked for his uncle, working his way up in the "Family," learning the ins and outs of the Masucci business. He watched his uncle schmooze the New York elite, making important friends in politics and entertainment, and he soaked up everything he saw his uncle do to employees who disappointed him. Most of them were never seen again. Finally he was sent to Port Charles, a sleepy little hamlet in 1939, to run all of the operations for upstate New York, New England and Canada. He'd worked hard, moving his childhood sweetheart Rose over from Italy, married her, and built up an empire for her and their two children. An empire he'd run until he lost his beloved Rosie in '92. Then he found it hard to get out of bed, make the deals that needed to be made, do whatever it took to keep the Masucci's on top, so he'd handed the reigns over to his son, Lino. Some days he thought it had been a mistake. Perhaps he hadn't hardened Lino up enough to be the man he needed to be to run the business. After all, Lino had allowed Corinthos to come in and impede on their territory like a virus, and then Alcazar. Now they had Scorpio to deal with. He coughed violently, his marbled hands with their thick, arthritic knuckles swiping at his mouth and then at the air. Finally the rasping subsided and he closed his eyes, his frail, 90 year old body swallowed up by the recliner. Perhaps he couldn't fight physically, but he would not let Robert Scorpio destroy all he had worked to build.

"_Avremo bisogno di occuparsi di esso,"_ (We will need to take care of it) he wheezed. _"Che porta."_ (Whatever it takes.) Gianni lowered his eyes at the image of Robert Scorpio on the television, then violently snapped the TV off using the remote, glaring at his son.

"Nonno! Nonno!" A beautiful little girl with long dark hair came bounding in the room. "Will you play with me?"

His face softened at the sound of her voice. _"Ehi! La mia bella bambola."_ (My beautiful little doll.) Gianni gently cupped the young girl's cheek and kissed her. He struggled out of the chair, grasping for his cane and let the little girl help him out of the room.

Lino watched them leave, then silently crossed the room to the phone and dialed. "We need to meet. Now."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Watching the Port Charles waterfront scenery fly past him, Lino Masucci shook his head. It was like something out of a bad gothic novel.

_It was a dark and stormy night…_

The drizzle and low lying clouds set an ominous mood for the meeting he was headed towards. He watched the windshield wipers brush the drizzle off the windshield intermittently over his driver's shoulder and sighed, trying to settle back into the soft leather seats and relax. He was going to have to be at the top of his game to deal with Corinthos, Alcazar, and now…Scorpio.

Masucci feared the tentative relationship he had forged with his counterparts – the extremely mutually beneficial relationship he might add – would not survive this new development. He would do everything he could to make it work. There was too much on the line, too many people in place, for failure.

There was no turning back now.

**

* * *

  
**

Robert Scorpio stood at the doorway to his new-old office. It was just as his brother had left it. He had considered this moment, his reclaiming of this position and the difficulties that might be associated with it. In all of them he imagined his brother sulking and not talking to him for a while. Maybe even, for the first time in years, leaving town to resume some semblance of the life he had before he took on the responsibilities that Robert and Frisco had left behind. Robert's expression hardened. He didn't think things would fall apart so quickly. That was a fatal miscalculation on his part. It would be his last, he vowed.

He moved aside as a security team from the WSB walked in to sweep the office for bugs and cameras.

It had been personal before. It was even more personal now.

His eyes glittered in anger as one of the sweepers pulled a small bug out of the frame of a photograph of Robin.

Very personal.

**

* * *

  
**

"He's a loose cannon. A wild card."

"Any more clichés you want to drag out, Corinthos?" Lorenzo Alcazar sneered.

Sonny smiled, running a finger along the rim of his glass of whiskey. "You should watch yourself. It's a dangerous time."

"What are you going to do? Sick your lapdog on me? That what you did to Mac Scorpio? Send Jason to take him out?"

Pointing his finger menacingly at Alcazar, Sonny began to shake as he slid his chair back with a loud scrape and stood up. "I did not…send Jason to KILL MAC!" Sonny screamed. He blinked rapidly and slammed the bare bulb hanging above the table, casting dancing shadows around the warehouse.

"Enough!"

Masucci's outburst silenced the other men and caused all of their bodyguards to place their hands on their guns. The smell of coffee beans was overwhelming and starting to make Lino feel sick to his stomach. He looked around him at the hundreds of burlap bags filled with the fragrant beans – and god knew what else – in Corinthos's warehouse. His thoughts gathered, when he finally spoke again, Masucci's voice was low and calm. "He's cleaning house. Most of our plants are gone or running scared."

"We'll need him more than ever now," Lorenzo said. "Do you think Scorpio has a clue?"

"No. Impossible," Sonny stammered.

Trying to keep his cool, Lorenzo gave him a tight grin. "Did your guy take care of it?"

Sonny fixed him with a glare. "Yes."

Lino cleared his throat, looking at his perfectly manicured hands. "Well, then, we'll know soon enough just how clueless Commissioner Scorpio is."

**

* * *

  
**

Jason scrubbed nervously at his stubble as he walked towards the police station. It was an unfamiliar sensation, nerves, but then so was voluntarily walking into this building when there was no one to bail out or questions to avoid answering.

_Port Charles Central Police Station_

What the hell was he doing? Even when the headaches weren't there, there was like the ghost of a vise on his skull. And alien thoughts in his head. Thoughts that led him here. Maybe Robert…

Before he could finish his thought he heard the sounds of footsteps and he ducked behind the tall bush next to the concrete steps leading into the station. His chest tightened as he watched as Robin stormed up the stairs.

Robin stalked through the police station. At least, she tried to. She was stopped along the way by people sharing their thoughts about Mac. Which rather than upsetting her, only made her more determined to tell Robert off for his betrayal. When she came into the squad room on the Commissioner's floor she saw him standing outside Mac's office talking with someone she had never seen before. She pegged him in a second as WSB. He didn't have the look of a local cop or even someone from the State.

She steeled her shoulders and walked over. She wasn't going to stand aside and wait for the WSB. They had already stolen too much of her life.

"Hello, luv," Robert said when she got to him, as the man he was talking to melted into the background.

"I want to talk to you."

"My office is not available right now. Let's go to an interview room." Robert saw Robin flinch at his proprietary claim to the office that just yesterday belonged to his brother.

Robin avoided his guiding hand and walked around him to look into the office. "What are they doing?" she asked.

"Removing the bugs."

"Bugs?" Clearly startled, Robin reached out for her father's arm. "The office was bugged?"

Robert nodded grimly and waited for the wheels to turn in his highly intelligent daughter's brain. "Let's go into that interview room," he said when her eyes went flat with understanding.

"Did he know?" Robin turned on Robert the moment he closed the door. "About you taking his job and calling him a failure?"

"Mac couldn't know because of the listening devices in his office, his official vehicle and the house." Robert sat down. "And I never called him a failure."

"The house?" Robin gasped and sat down across from him.

"The situation is very dire, Robin. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

Robin frowned down at the table for a moment. "This would have hurt him." She looked more hurt than angry now.

"I cared less about his feelings than his safety. If you want to fault me for anything it's not being in time." Robert's voice was raspy.

"How is the WSB involved? Why is the WSB involved?"

"I can't tell you that."

"I'm tired of hearing that!" Rage sliced through Robin. The secrets of the WSB had more than once torn her life apart. Hell, it had been the lie in which she started her life not knowing who her parents were or who she really was.

"Your sympathies towards the criminal element are well known. You can't be involved in this."

"I never betrayed Uncle Mac! Never!"

"That could be debated, luv." Robert hated saying these things, but hated even more that they were true.

"I hate you!" Robin stood up. "I wish you'd never come back!" She stormed out of the room.

Robert sat still in his chair for a moment. "I wish I had come back sooner." He stood up and turned off the light on his way out.

**

* * *

  
**

"You weren't here. You don't remember what it was like when Robert Scorpio was last commissioner. When his wife Anna was Police Chief," Masucci said. "Those were hard times. Difficult years. We need to take this threat seriously and we need to fix it. Now."

"With all due respect, Lino, those were different times," Lorenzo said. "We didn't have the…technology," he shot a pointed glare at his colleagues, "that we have today."

"We have many pieces in place, Masucci," Sonny said. "And the Mayor knows it's in his best interests to keep us happy."

"Robert Scorpio is not Mac Scorpio!" Lino felt the rage build inside him. These men were arrogant fools. "He won't be so easy to control."

"And I'm telling you, it's taken care of." Sonny's lips curved up into a slight smile and he took another swig of whiskey.

**

* * *

  
**

She knew as soon as she left the building that she hadn't meant what she had said to Robert. Robin went down a few steps and stopped. The right thing to do would be to go right back inside and apologize to Robert, even if he wouldn't tell her what the WSB was doing there and whose bugs those were. Robin pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. Robert knew who killed Uncle Mac, she could see it in his eyes. She half turned back towards the front door of the police station when something caught her eye. She stepped slowly to the side of the staircase.

"Jason, what are you doing hiding there?" Her heart began to pound faster.

Jason stood up and looked at her. "I'm sorry about your Uncle Mac," he said in a rough voice.

**

* * *

  
**

"This is not exactly private, Anna." Noah was holding Anna in his arms and looking down at her with a quirked eyebrow.

"We in the spy business call it hiding in plain sight."

"Sight of your ex-husband?" Noah's lips quirked. They were standing at the entrance to he docks just a block away from the police station. "Or are you planning to get caught by your daughter."

"Robin is at Mac's house."

"No. Robin is walking out of the police station." Noah motioned towards her with his chin.

Anna spun out of Noah's arms. "She must be visiting, Robert." She tapped her lip with a long nail.

"I'd feel a lot better if there wasn't so much passion in your voice when you say his name."

"Disgust is not passion."

"Fine line, Devane. It's a fine line."

"Stop being witty, my daughter looks upset. That bastard upset her!" Anna started walking forward.

"Wait." Noah put his hand on her shoulder. "Look."

"What the hell is he doing there? Why is my daughter going off with that hoodlum?" Anna raged. "Come on. Let's follow them."

"More hiding in plain sight?" Noah asked.

"Shut up and call Frisco," Anna growled and stalked off.

"Yes, Ma'am." Noah pulled out his phone.

**End of Chapter - TBC**


End file.
